


In Our Darkest Hours

by wellthizizdeprezzing



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, I don't know what else to tag, Love, Smut, Yennefer makes a deal, a tiny cabin just for two, after sodden, possessive Yennefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26680060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wellthizizdeprezzing/pseuds/wellthizizdeprezzing
Summary: After Sodden, everything changes. For better and for worse, as Tissaia finds herself getting tangled up in the path of Yennefer who is not exactly herself anymore.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 40
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I've never written a serious or kinda smutty fic for this pairing yet, so here's my first try. Let me know what ya think.

Tissaia wakes up with a ferocious pounding pain in her head. Everything else registers through a thick haze that gradually lessens the longer she stays conscious. The smell of smoke burns through her nostrils and coats the inside of her mouth with an ashy taste that makes her want to gag. Her hearing is ringing and through it she can only make out silence. Wherever she is, she is away from the fight. From a fight that has gone awry ever since Fringilla showed up.

Tissaia recalls trying to reason with her, in a patch of woods away from anyone else. It had been foolish to do that. The woman was beyond saving, seeking revenge on those who had turned their backs on her. Except Tissaia had never turned her back first. It had been Fringilla who had scorned her help, her outreach, much like one ill tempered witch Tissaia knew all too well.

But despite the miles and years between them, she had come back. Come back to give aid to Tissaia when aid had been needed. Where was she now? Was she alright? Had Tissaia made a grave error in bringing her here to her own doom?

She could never forgive herself if anything had happened to Yennefer. But they had needed the witch's chaos on their side; Tissaia had been counting on it to save them in their last moments. But now, had the last moment's come?

Tissaia feels a burn in her chest that has everything to do with guilt, and the Dimeritium burning through her veins. She's without her magic and of no use to anyone as she is right now. She should have known better than to try and reason with a Nilgaardian mage. Still, she blindly tries to get up, needing to check in on the mages, needing to make sure Yennefer was alright.

She struggles in the hold of something. It's warm and strong and Tissaia doesn't have the strength to fight it. “Yenn....” she breathes out, hoping that somehow the woman can hear her, can know to let her chaos free for once and save this sorry battle.

“I'm here, I'm right here Tissaia,” comes a soothing voice and it's Yenn's. What is Yenn doing here? Tissaia opens her eyes with some effort, finding them painful and swollen from where the blue powder hit them. She makes out the blurry image of a black haired woman above her, cradling her prone form. She's aware of Yenn's fingers in her hair, keeping away from the wounds that are trickling down her temple and to her cheek.

“Yenn?” Tissaia questions, trying to get up but Yennefer only pushes her down. “What are you doing here?” she asks, voice hoarse. “The battle-”

“It's alright. It's going to be all alright,” Yennefer shushes, her voice ever so gentle, unlike anything Tissaia has heard before. The trees blur around her as fatigue sets in.

“Did we win?” Tissaia asks as unconsciousness grasps her once more.

“No,” is the unapologetic answer.

* * *

Tissaia wakes up in a bed this time, and not Yennefer's strong arms. It's her bed, in Aretuza and she groans as she attempts to sit up. The Dimeritium in her veins burns and saps her energy and she lets out a rattling cough. There is the clink of a pedestal grinding away some herbs, the scent of greenery and herbal medicine hanging heavily in the air.

“Triss?” Tissaia asks, noticing the mane of unruly hair over a blue cloak. Her vision is still damaged and she has a hard time focusing on anything.

Triss turns to her, letting out a sigh of relief. “Tissaia, it's so good to see you alright. We were very worried. You had a bad fever for a week and you didn't wake up. We thought the dimeritium might...” she trailed off here, shaking her head. “Nevermind that, you're fine now. I have some herbs I'd like you to take. And I have a poultice that should help your eyes.”

“A week!” Tissaia exclaims and regrets it when she starts coughing. Triss is by her side in seconds, patting her on the back. A week was too long for her to have rested. She needed to be on her feet, needed to help the cause. Needed to stop Fringilla. “What has happened since?” she asks when she recovers.

“We've all been healing, dealing with our losses,” Triss said somberly and when Tissaia looked at her she could make out burn marks on her chest and neck that had healed partially.

Tissaia recalls Yennefer's soft no when she had asked about the battle. “So, we lost,” she said dryly. “Despite all we did, we still lost.”

“We did,” Triss said somberly and voice laced with pain. “But we have to remain strong. We can't just give up.”

“Who made it through?” Tissaia asked, needing to know. Despite only being up for a little while, she felt enervated and like she needed to sleep once more.

Triss fiddled with her hands. “Me, Sabrina, Vilgefortz, you, Yennefer, and about five other mages. Everyone else...” she trailed off, not wanting to speak more on this. Tissaia hung her head in grief. What a huge loss. A loss that hung on her head.

This was her fault for trying to do well. For trying to make a change. She should have just stayed behind her walls and done nothing, let the course of the Continent change on it's own. Triss gets up from where she sat down by Tissaia's bed to fetch the poultice and herbal mixture for Tissaia.

“Here, drink this,” she held up the flask to Tissaia's lips. “This will help your body sweat out the poison.” Tissaia takes it and gulps it all down. The taste is horrendous but she knows she needs it so she can find her strength again. No doubt Aretuza needs a leader in these trying times.

“Whose been running Aretuza?” she asks.

“Margareta,” is the answer and Tissaia scowls. Trust that vulture to swoop in and take advantage of the power vacuum for her own gains. “But don't worry yourself over it. Worry about getting better. Your magic is stripped and will be for a while.”

Tissaia is aware of that, unable to feel even the faintest trace of it in her body while the blue powder she inhaled courses through her veins. Sighing, she resigns herself to her bedridden fate. “How long?”

“I'd say two to three weeks at least until I recommend you getting up and doing anything. Dimeritium is not to be taken lightly,” Triss scolds as if knowing that Tissaia will no doubt try to push the boundaries of this to be up as early as she can be. “Now lay down, so I may attend to your eyes.”

Tissaia hates being fussed over, but she is in no position to take care of herself much as it pains her to admit it. She closes her eyes as Triss smears the pulpy mixture onto her eyelids. The cooling effect is immediate and as soon as Triss is done, Tissaia finds herself falling into slumber once more.

Another week passes in this manner, with Triss coming in twice daily to deliver the potion and poultice and to help Tissaia into the tub so that she may wash off the blue shimmer that is drawn out from her skin. There seems to be no end to this stuff and sometimes it sickens her, leaving her stomach in knots that won't let her eat anything though she forces herself to eat the soups and crackers that Triss is kind enough to bring up. Tissaia hasn't seen anyone but her for a long time, and she wonders how everyone else is doing.

“As best as we can,” Triss answers, as if reading Tissaia's mind and perhaps she did, because Tissaia is no longer able to protect her thoughts from anyone else. “And no one blames you for the loss. We are just curious as to what happened. Who did this to you? Yennefer said it was Fringilla.”

“It was her, and I was foolish to try and reason with her,” Tissaia says, voice turning sharp as she runs a sponge down her arm. Triss is standing respectfully behind the screen so that Tissaia can have her privacy but also so Triss is close enough to help her if she needs anything. “She blew the powder in my face and left me helpless. Yennefer found me and brought me back, I suppose.”

“She did,” Triss confirms. “She ran over with you in your arms. When we saw that, we thought you were dead and lost all morale. Yennefer urged us to vacate the battle to save our losses and we left because we didn't have your advice on what to do. Or your plans.”

“Some use my plans turned out to be,” Tissaia said. “Perhaps it was best you left when Yennefer said to do so.” Though, it was a bit odd that Yennefer had suggested that instead of charging in. Yennefer's nature was to fight back, tooth and nail no matter the odds. Why would she order them to draw back? They didn't need Tissaia's input to tell them what to do. Yennefer had enough chaos in her body to wipe out the whole army on her own, and yet she hadn't. This all gives Tissaia momentary pause but she quickly finishes up her bathing because she is aware Triss has other patients that still need her attention.

“Actually, Yennefer wanted to talk to you,” Triss says as she helps Tissaia into a clean robe. The Rectoress would normally be embarrassed to have a former student seeing her in such a feeble state and helping her like this, but war brought with it new situations and standards she would have to get used to.

“Talk,” Tissaia hummed. “More like argue with me.” The two of them had rarely ever had civil conversation. Why it would change now, she wouldn't know.

“Should I let her in?” Triss asked.

“I suppose if I have no choice,” was the answer as Tissaia allowed herself to be lead back to bed. She was still weak but improving step by step. Triss left to go fetch Yennefer and Tissaia settled in on the raised pillows, trying to look as commanding as she normally did while laying down.

There was a knock on the door that signified someone had arrived. “Come in,” she called out, not expecting it to be Yennefer who had so politely knocked. She never really did that, just barging in like she owned the rooms she was in. The black haired witch closed the door behind her, staying there as she observed Tissaia in her bed.

“She really did a number on you, didn't she,” she commented, eyes flicking up and down Tissaia's form.

“Are you here just to make fun of that, or are you here on solid business?” Tissaia asked, not in the mood to humor Yennefer's superiority. She had no doubt her former student would take no small delight from the uptight Rectoress who had caused her so much pain while under mentor-ship, to be so weak and dependent on others.

Yennefer licked her lips, trying to find her words. “No, it's not that. Seeing you hurt does not make me feel like I've won. I simply came to see how you were doing. Triss said you felt better.” Yennefer leans up off of the doors, coming closer to the bed but hesitating before it. She seems almost skittish. Tissaia has no idea why. It's not like Yennefer to behave in this manner. Is something bothering her? Yennefer digs into her pocket and holds out a vial filled with blue liquid.

“I did some research, and I made you this,” she holds it out, and Tissaia takes it, pondering the potion in her grasp. She's never seen anything like it.

“What is this?” she asks.

“A potion to help reverse the Dimeritium effects. It should work wonders,” Yennefer says, not looking at Tissaia as she said this, going over to inspect the poultice that Triss has been using. Tissaia's eyes are much better thanks to it, and she's almost gotten her vision back to it's former glory.

“And you're not trying to poison me, are you?” Tissaia asks, only half serious.

Yennefer jerks at this, an offended look on her face. “Why would I-”

“You never were one to pay attention in potions. Or to do research.” Tissaia states this calmly and reasonably.

Yennefer scowls. “Fair point,” she concedes though begrudgingly. “But I did want to help you. The school is a mess and we need you on your feet, as soon as possible.”

“How....considerate,” Tissaia says, because she did not know Yennefer was capable of such things. “Much like how you told the mages to retreat. Why did you do that? I thought you would want to kill Fringilla with your own two hands.”

Yennefer sets down the mortar she had been weighing in her hand. Magic seemed to crackle around her, made worse by her apparent nervousness. But then she seemed to get herself under control because her face smoothed down and she turned to Tissaia with a smile on her face. “That, I did so I could gloat later on. Prove to you that it was all hopeless.”

Tissaia arched a brow. “I'm sure you could have achieved the same by wiping out the enemy army, and yet you chose not to-”

“Tissaia, we are fighting a losing war. It was why I kept out of the way of politics for so long. Because no matter what, mages are always going to be the losers in the end,” she said with conviction, though smiling still, as if this was amusing. “I only came to help to show you that even I can't change the tides of battle no matter what my chaos is. Because I am one woman against an army of many who had no morals or qualms about doing anything to get what they want.” Yennefer slinked over to Tissaia's bed now, sitting down on it, like they were friends at a sleepover.

She reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Tissaia's ear. Her hair was down and Yennefer had never seen it like this before. “You should wear it down more often,” Yennefer whispered. “Now, be a good Rectoress and drink the potion. We need to make contingency plans now that we've angered Nilfgaard.” With that she left, leaving only the scent of lingering gooseberries in the air.

Tissaia stared after her, not quite understanding her actions. Had Yennefer somehow matured over the past two weeks Tissaia had been bound to her chamber? She glanced at the potion in her hand and decided she might as well try it. What else did she have to lose?

* * *

The potion knocks Tissaia right out and when she wakes up the next morning, she feels amazing. Whatever had been in it, had done the job right for once and for all. She gets out of bed, able to stretch her sore joints. While she can't use her magic, she can feel it slowly reawakening under her skin, like a bear coming out from hibernation.

Triss comes in to find Tissaia out of bed, and dressed in one of her formal gowns. Her jaw drops open. “Tissaia, what are you doing out of bed?”

“I'm feeling much better, so I thought it was high time I left my room and attended to matters in Aretuza. No doubt Margareta has made a mess of things. She never was good in organizing anything.”

“Are you sure?” Triss questions. “There is no way you should be up so early-”

“Yennefer, surprisingly, came to give me a potion that cleared everything up. I don't know how she did it, but she said she did some research and found one that would work.”

Triss's jaw drops open again, this time in agitation. “I also looked for cures on how to rid the Dimeritium quickly, and yet I found nothing in any of the books we have in Aretuza.”

“Perhaps Yennefer had other sources,” Tissaia mussed. “I shall ask her about it later. If she can replicate the potion we could effectively de-weaponize Dimeritium.”

“Oh, alright,” and Triss seems dejected now, though Tissaia hasn't the faintest clue as to why she should feel this way.

Tissaia gives her a sharp look, always woefully horrid at deducing the intrinsics of human emotion. “I thank you for all your help and care, Triss. You truly helped me through the worst of it all and I would not be here if it were not for you.”

That brightened Triss' mood considerably. “Well, if you feel better....however, I would feel more at ease if you did not overexert yourself today and would allow me to keep tabs on you and on the affects of the potion. It's relatively new so we don't know it's side effects.”

“If you must,” Tissaia dryly said, with the air of someone far too busy to be disturbed. “But do try not to make too much of a fuss. I wouldn't like to have them see me as weak.”

“Of course,” Triss said. “Let me just get my things and I'll be back.” She slipped out through the door, leaving a crack big enough for Yennefer to slip in through like a shadow. Quiet and all dark. She must have been waiting outside for the right moment to come in.

“I see the potion worked,” Yennefer drawled cockily, raking her eyes over the sight of Tissaia on her own two feet. “Now, you can't say I never did amount to anything in potions.”

“I never said you did. I just said you rarely paid attention,” Tissaia corrected.

“Something was always distracting me,” Yennefer offered, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she gave Tissaia a measured stare the Rectoress could not understand.

“I do suppose I owe you a thanks,” Tissaia cleared her throat, straightening her spine. “For the potion.”

Yennefer eagerly awaited the thank you which somehow made it more embarrassing to say it, but Tissaia did owe Yennefer a thanks in the least for saving her during the battle and saving her now.

“Thank you,” Tissaia said, though it came out more difficult than she had anticipated it would. Shouldn't be strange, she surmised, if she hadn't used such phrases in decades.

“You're very welcome,” Yennefer replied. “I'm surprised you still have manners.”

Tissaia felt tempted to roll her eyes but did not. “As I am surprised you do too. But onto matters of more importance, how did you make that potion? Triss mentions she could not find such a thing for it in our magical tomes.” Tissaia stepped out from behind her desk, hands clasped behind her back. Her cool gaze did not phase Yennefer.

“Because it did not come from our tomes,” Yennefer answered simply. “I went through a lot of trouble to make you that potion, and I would appreciate you not delving any more into the matter.”

Tissaia tsked. Of course Yennefer would have done something so foolish. Only she would go above and beyond to achieve something. Tissaia would never have guessed Yennefer would do it for _her._

“Yennefer, I really hoped you have not wrapped yourself up into something dangerous,” Tissaia said in a low voice of disapproval.

Yennefer offered a languid shrug. “It's nothing you need to be concerned with. What's done is done.” That did nothing to assuage Tissaia's concern; only exacerbated it.

Tissaia was about to demand Yennefer tell her more on this matter when Triss came back into the room. “I'm all set. And hello, Yennefer.”

“Hello, Triss,” Yennefer smirked and then left, leaving Tissaia with many unanswered questions that would haunt her for days to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Whatever had been in Yennefer's potion, had done wonders for Tissaia. She was soon back to herself, even able to use magic though weak it was. She knew with time it would get better. She burned to ask Yennefer what had to be exchanged for that potion, for she knew magic always came with a price and she shuddered to think what hefty price Yennefer had paid for this miraculous potion.

Despite being a thorn in Tissaia's side ever since being brought to Aretuza as a hot tempered teen, Tissaia cared for Yennefer. Perhaps a bit too much, or in the very least more than she cared for any other student prior. There was just something about Yennefer that drew people in. And it wasn't because of her beauty, though that drew in flies like to honey. No, it was the air around her. So wild, and untamed, that everyone wanted a chance to tame it, only to be spat back out on their asses and left scrambling far away. For though she drew much attention to herself, Yennefer could never sustain the attention before her wildness proved to be too much to those around her.

Tissaia was the only person to have ever broken through that whirling cyclone that sucked and spat out anyone bold enough to dare. And it was because Tissaia herself had been like that as child until she learned the costs of recklessness and turned to control to tame the beast inside her that magic tried to make. Yennefer would never have the tight control needed like Tissaia did, but Tissaia had managed to rein her in somewhat, navigating those stormy winds and skies until she found the heart of Yennefer and chained it down so it wouldn't float away and be lost in all the chaos. Due to this bond, it was why they had such a special though strained relationship. They were always at each others throats, even in moments of kindness and Tissaia had seen more than once the hatred in Yennefer's eyes at what Tissaia demanded of her. But Tissaia would demand no less than perfection and she made it clear.

Still, it was through this tumultuous relationship that Tissaia had grown closer to Yennefer than anyone else before. And it was why Yennefer's distance had hurt so much. Why her later recklessness scared Tissaia for it drew unneeded attention, attention that could harm Yennefer. Yennefer had been her best student, her strongest mage, and yet things had soured between them. How had it gone wrong? Had it started the day they first met, or had it been when Yennefer came back remade into a goddess and stolen the King she was not meant to steal?

Perhaps Tissaia would never know. She was grateful that Yennefer had eventually come back and decided to help Tissaia when asked to. For if it had not been for her, things might have proceeded worse. And now it gave a chance for those wounds, invisible to the eye, to heal between them. Though, Yennefer was notoriously hard to find in the halls of Aretuza. Whenever Tissaia had a spare moment to find her or to seek her word, she was gone, portaling out. And Tissaia, though invigorated, still was not strong enough to leave the halls of Aretuza in pursuit of her.

So, she would wait out the capriciousness of Yennefer's behavior and then question her on what had been done to achieve that potion. It was a price Tissaia did not want Yennefer paying on her own, not after Tissaia had done so much to keep her safe and alive, something that Yennefer had no clue of. Not even an inkling of how many times Tissaia had plead her case in those Chapter meetings when the men had wanted Yennefer gone so she could not stir up more trouble among the humans.

Maybe it would be best she did not know, for surely she would throw that information back at Tissaia's face, claiming the woman had gone soft. And Tissaia had to admit, she did soften around Yennefer, but not because she could help it. There was a good reason for that, one she often hated to dwell on. For it was most improper.

* * *

It becomes obvious to Tissaia that Yennefer is up to something, something not good. Yennefer has never been good at sneaking around, nor does she do it for she prefers to burst into things headfirst. So this secrecy is what tips Tissaia off to something being suspicious. And since they are all in the middle of war, each suspicion, no matter how small, must be examined. It's why Tissaia questions Yennefer's friend Triss about her latest behaviors.

“I don't know. I haven't noticed anything weird. Though I do think she has a secret lover.”

Tissaia arches a brow. “And why is that?”

“She's been writing a lot of letters. Careful that no one sees them. But I caught her once or twice doing it,” Triss answers as she folds a herb mixture.

“Thank you,” and Tissaia walks off to intercept the mail. She searches through the parcels and slips until she manages to find the envelope with Yennefer's handwriting on it. And addressed, to Nilfgaard of all places. Tissaia's breath catches in her throat. What is Yennefer up to?

She tears open the letter, hands nearly shaking as she reads it.

_I am doing as requested of me, and studying up on all the secrets of Aretuza. Soon, I shall know it's weaknesses and you shall have your day of glory. I only ask those I care for be spared when you ravage it's halls with blood._

_-Yennefer, your loyal servant-_

Several emotions go through Tissaia at this, namely betrayal and hurt. How could Yennefer do this to her? To the school? Did she truly hate it so much? Why was she even doing this? Tissaia wanted to march over and confront Yennefer right away but she restrained herself. To do so now would be foolish. She needed to gather more intelligence. More proof of this and then find Yennefer even if she is hard to find nowadays. But what would Tissaia do when she finally confronted Yennefer, she did not yet know.

* * *

Eventually, Tissaia manages to catch Yennefer lurking the halls at night. Quite by accident. Tissaia herself cannot sleep and so she decided a stroll will do her good. The halls are quiet at this late hour and she relishes in the silence and in the solitude, which is why when she catches the end of a tune being hummed, she almost freezes and calls upon her magic, thinking it an intruder. But the voice is familiar and she relaxes though she treads through darkness to follow it, slippered feet silent on the stone floor.

She enters the library where Yennefer is stooped over the spread of ancient manuscripts detailing truths of the Continent that have been forgotten by many. Her oil lamp flickers in the breeze Tissaia's arrival has caused and makes Yennefer turn to look at her. In the candlelight, her eyes look black and unlike her usual self.

“There you are. I've been meaning to find you, and yet you are harder to catch than a slippery eel,” Tissaia comments, stopping in the doorway. Nerves play in her stomach. Should she confront Yennefer now? This is what Tissaia had been waiting for, to catch the other woman alone. And yet, she cannot seem to bring herself to do that, because to do so would indeed confirm that Yennefer was scheming behind Tissaia's back and if she didn't say anything than she could continue thinking this wasn't true. Because if it was true, it would hurt immensely. And she would be forced to punish Yennefer, if not do worse.

Yennefer hums and turns back to bending over her work. “Isn't it well past your bedtime? You should go sleep, you need it,” she dismisses.

Tissaia will not so easily be turned away. “You should be asleep too, and yet you've been such a busy bee these past few days. Tell me, what has you working this hard?” She tries to keep her voice even, still wavering between confronting Yennefer or not.

Yennefer stiffens at the inquisitive tone and then relaxes with a soft laugh. “I've decided I don't want to be unprepared if war reaches us once more. So I am studying.” She gestures to the ancient manuscripts in front of her on the desk. Are these other secrets she is selling? And why?

“And this has nothing to do with the price you paid for the potion?” Tissaia walks closer until she is but three paces away. Yennefer's black hair glistens with a fiery sheen from the candle that is almost extinguished by the woman's exasperated sigh.

“I regret telling you if only now because you hound me. Can you not accept things as they are and leave me be? I have things I need to do.”

Tissaia narrows her eyes. This resilient behavior is not new from Yennefer but something sits and nags at the back of Tissaia's mind. Like a toothache that won't go away and only gets worse with applied pressure. She can't quite put her finger on it- maybe it's because of the fact Yennefer had to do something in exchange for the potion- that she feels something is off. Yennefer is not....the same. The energy around her that Tissaia could so easily determine, is whirling, but in the wrong direction. Tissaia cannot say if this is due to her own magic being not right yet, but Yenn's magic feels wrong even now. She should wait then to see if what she is feeling is correct. Because if Yennefer is not herself, this changes everything relating to why she is trying to do harm to Aretuza.

“I will not bother you, then. Goodnight Yennefer.” She turns to leave, figuring there is no need to have an argument at three in the morning, when Yennefer speaks.

“Wait.”

Tissaia does, shocked by her own body's willingness to listen and respond to the command. Yennefer slinks up to her. “I'll walk you back to your room.”

Tissaia arches a brow. “Though kind it is not needed.”

“I wasn't offering,” Yennefer retorts, a rough edge to her voice. Her eyes are not entirely black like Tissaia had seen before, but they look strange. Like a stranger's eyes. No, Tissaia is certain something is not right. Did Yennefer sell her soul for the potion? It's not an unheard of deal. That might explain why she was consorting with Nilfgaard. Yes indeed, something was running afoul.

But why would Yennefer do something like this for Tissaia? It made no sense. None at all.

She doesn't want Yennefer leading her back to the room, not alone at night. Tissaia needs space to decipher if Yennefer could be a potential threat. Those who were soulless were exposed to a myriad of issues. They could easily become possessed. If that was the case, Tissaia would have to perform a cleansing ritual and put up barriers on Yennefer's mind and body to protect the rest of her.

“I am not a child, Yennefer. Good _night_ ,” Tissaia says succinctly and leaves, catching a frustrated look overtake Yennefer's face.

Tissaia needs to get some rest. A full day of work awaits her, including more meetings with the Chapter on what to do regarding the mages position in this war.

Tissaia walks down the hall but Yennefer's hurried footsteps follow her, to make up for the distance. “Yennefer....” Tissaia scowls, in no mood to have to deal with Yennefer like this, when everything is uncertain. Her magic would be unable to hold Yennefer back, soul or no soul.

In the dark black of the halls, Yennefer is barely decipherable but her hand brushes Tissaia's shoulder, making the older woman jolt in shock. They've never really touched each other, always careful to maintain a distance. But now Yennefer's whole hand rests on her shoulder, warm through the thin fabric of her nightgown. “The halls are dark and you might stumble and fall. A fall at your age would do you no good,” Yennefer's teasing voice came from Tissaia's right side. In the dark it felt more intimate than it should.

“I am not so old as I cannot take care of myself. I have lived through much worse things and I don't need you to guide me,” Tissaia jerked her shoulder free. Yennefer swallows down a vexed sound.

“You are utterly frustrating,” Yennefer breathes out and Tissaia doesn't know what to make of at first to this confession. It's not shocking; she knows she and Yennefer drive each other to wit's ends.

“I could say the same for you,” she settles on at last. Her steps move fast to her room. Yennefer keeps up easily with her longer legs.

“You've always felt that way about me, have you?” Yennefer murmurs and Tissaia doesn't expect this line of questioning. Why the sudden sensitivity? She opens the door to her room and finds that Yennefer doesn't even bother to ask to come over, or have any sense of propriety to not be in the Rectoress' room at this hour.

“Yennefer, I think you know well of our relationship,” Tissaia scowls and goes into her bed, hoping that Yennefer will get the message this way before Tissaia has to eject her forcibly. But Yennefer only strides closer. “It has always been tumultuous, and it continues to be so.”

“So you hate me,” Yennefer asks and in the dark it is hard to see the emotion on her face. Figuring she won't get to sleep so easily, Tissaia lights the candles in her room by her bed. Yennefer doesn't even blink at the sudden light. Her face continues to be impassive.

Tissaia sighs out, reluctant to share this. “Hated you, never. Been frustrated by you, yes. Countless times. But I do...cherish you Yennefer even if it doesn't seem this way. Even if I know you hate me.” While she spoke this, Yennefer had sat down on the bed, face open to consuming Tissaia's words hungrily. If this is what she wants to hear it is hard to tell because her reaction is shocking.

“Hated you?” Yenn questions, almost angrily. She edges closer, crowding Tissaia's already small space even smaller. She leans in and Tissaia leans back on the bed, almost lying flat as Yenn advances, lost to her own words. “Perhaps I did once hate you. A lot, for how you disparaged me. But now?” She flicks her eyes down to Tissaia's lips and then back up to her blue eyes. “I don't. I stopped hating you a long time ago.”

“Then why are you doing this?” Tissaia hates the breathy quality voice of her voice. Hates how weak it makes her sound, but her head is throbbing now from strain and her heart is aching at this betrayal. Atlas she seems to be unable to keep it in for a more advantageous reveal. It pours out of her because of all students, it hurts that Yennefer is the one doing this, and it would hurt more if Yennefer was doing this because she had been the only one to bother sacrificing so much for Tissaia's health. “If not because you hate me, then why would you go to such depths to take down this school?”

For a second Tissaia thinks that Yennefer will deny this, but she surprises her when she does not. “I'm not doing it for me,” Yennefer hisses and they're so close together, chests almost brushing. The air is filled with the smell of lilac and gooseberries. Things begin to collide in Tissaia's head. Is Yennefer being black mailed? Threatened? “Then who?” She asks. _Please do not say it was for me, I could not bare it-_

This reply is snapped, and yet tinged with sadness. Bitterness. “That doesn't matter. You need not worry about it.”

“But you do plan to take down Aretuza.”

“I do not know of the others plans, I only serve and work with what I am given.”

Tissaia could not stand harm coming to her precious school which she'd fought for so long to carefully cultivate like a bonsai tree. Trimming this here, changing that there. And the students....she could have no harm face them either.

“What if I give myself up? Will Nilfgaard stop? Will they leave the academy alone?”

“Give yourself up?” Yennefer asks, cocking her head, biting her bottom lip. “To me?” Tissaia doesn't like how it's been said, with too much predatory weight. Tissaia's heart begins to race for more than fear related reasons. She scolds herself internally for feeling this way.

“To whoever it is that is controlling you.”

“I'm controlling myself, no one else is,” Yenn says but Tissaia knows it is a blatant lie. She can see the ring of black around Yennefer's purple pupils. That isn't normal. Nothing about this situation is.

“I know it's not true,” Tissaia says and tries to sit up, to preserve a modicum of respect given how Yennefer is practically pinning her to the bed. But even as Tissaia shifts up, Yenn does not shift back as one should. This way they're entirely way too close and Tissaia frowns angrily upon Yennefer's cocked head. “I know you too well.”

This seems to spark a reaction out of Yennefer. “Oh, you know me, do you?” she says, tone turning ugly with buried resentments. “You don't know anything about me-”

“I know enough,” Tissaia cuts in, placing a hand against Yennefer's shoulder, trying to push her back. “Now get off me before I make you do so, quite rudely.”

“All you know of me is that I was a chaotic little girl that needed to be broken and molded until I could do your bidding. I'm not her anymore. I am stronger; I have grown into my true self by being away from you. And this time, it is you who shall be broken and molded by me,” Yennefer promises with a sibilant hiss. She arches both brows up. “After all, did you not promise yourself to me as long as I would leave the school alone?”

“I did. Spare the school and take me,” Tissaia raised her chin up haughtily. In this manner, she might have a chance at figuring out how to save Yennefer. Yennefer has saved her; it only be far she return the favor.

Something dark flashed through Yennefer's eyes. A hunger that which was not uncommon for her to be there. Because she hungered for power, for control, for getting back what she could not. And now...hunger for something else. “Oh, I will take you, I promise that,” Yennefer said heatedly before she finally extracted herself from Tissaia's form. She stood up, smoothing down her skirts.

“I'll leave tomorrow. You have until then to gather what you need for the road. I expect you to make haste and not delay.”

Yennefer was serious about this deal, wasn't she. Tissaia had not expected that. Still, she had too much pride to back down from what she had brokered. “I would need more than a day to get my affairs in order.”

“You don't have that luxury,” Yennefer said coldly. And then she left Tissaia's chambers.

This time Tissaia could not sleep for other reasons.


	3. Chapter 3

They came to a tiny wooden cabin in the middle of a heavily wooded area comprised of tall pines, juniper bushes, and flowers of various assorted colors that swayed delightfully in the still slightly warm breeze. This was not what Tissaia had expected. She had expected to be taken to Fringilla. To Nilfgaard. To a dank and horrid prison of which that would only be the first of many terrible things brought upon her. And yet, here they were, looking like they were going to go on a vacation just for two in a lovely rustic location.

“Are we making a pit stop?” Tissaia inquired and Yennefer rolled her eyes so hard, Tissaia could feel the rotation of them, despite the younger witch looking away from her as she opened up the door and lit up all the candles inside with a lazy wave of her hand. The cabin was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, which meant it was probably expanded with magic. It was cozy, with a dining room, kitchen, living room, bathroom and bedroom inside. It looked comfortable and quaint. As if some effort had been made into appeasing her with it's cleanliness and simple décor.

“This is your new home.”

Tissaia pauses as she puts down her two leather parcels of luggage, quite sure that Yennefer must be joking. “What?”

“You are going to stay here.” Yennefer does not look at Tissaia as she speaks, instead running a hand down a dish towel rack, straightening the fabric there with a modicum of rough motion as if frustrated it's not the way she wanted it to be; not perfectly aligned. As if the slight mistake was enough to shame her in front of Tissaia, like there weren't more important things to be concerned on.

“You can't seriously expect me to do that.” Tissaia's voice is flat, tired.

“I can. Since I've enchanted it so you may not leave without my permission and should you try, terrible consequences will occur,” Yennefer span around and leaned on the counter as she spoke, dark satisfaction on her face. “But, if you do not believe me, you are more than welcome to try it,” she gestured languidly to the doorway, almost beggaring Tissaia to see her magical prowess herself.

“Blood magic. You are using blood magic now, Yennefer?” Tissaia scolded as Yenn came up to her, putting an errant hair behind her ear, eliciting a cool shiver down Tissaia's back she could not control.

“What does it matter. What does anything matter anymore,” she breathed as she looked down. There was that same hungry look in Yennefer's eyes. Her hand lingered on Tissaia's cheek like a ghostly touch.

Tissaia stepped back, affronted. “It matters to me, because the Yennefer I knew would never stoop so low despite her erratic proclivities.”

Yennefer scoffs and her jaw tenses. She drops the hand she'd been holding up. “Oh, do please not think any higher of me or I will not bear it,” she muttered sarcastically.

“And I am expected to stay here while you do what, exactly outside? Run amok in the halls of Aretuza?” Tissaia said indignantly.

“I would not go back on my word. We struck a deal I intend to keep it, as long as you don't foolishly try to leave here or go back to Aretuza.”

“What are you planning?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“It is my concern when they've got you working for Nilfgaard.” Tissaia stepped forward, pleading almost. Or close to it. “I want to help you Yennefer.” Her tone is gentle now, seeking to wrap Yenn's in it's embrace and soothe the other woman into submission or surrender, which ever will come first.

But Yennefer is stubborn and proud as always. She sets her jaw. “You can help me by staying here.”

“As what, your prisoner?”

Yennefer grit her teeth as her eyes flashed with magic. Despite the anger on her face, her voice came out weak and strained. “Shut up. I'm leaving.” And she did, slamming the door shut behind her with a rattle that shook the cutlery.

Tissaia didn't know what to do. She had not known what to expect when she followed Yennefer in the first place, but certainly it was not this. She knew better than to try to leave. Yennefer did not bluff. When she held an advantage she held it proud and in the open. So Tissaia did the only thing she could, which was unpack her clothing into the closet and set on the kettle to brew herself some tea.

She was trapped here for the foreseeable future and though she was tempted to berate herself for being so foolish as to allow herself into such a predicament she also knew she could not give up. If Yennefer kept her here, then surely the woman had to return at some point. Tissaia's magic would get stronger and she could use it on Yennefer if anything to overpower her and get out.

Additionally, she could use this time to get through to Yennefer. The younger witch had gotten herself wrapped up in something she should not have, for some indiscernible reason and if Tissaia could free her, she could also deal a blow to Nilfgaard. Yennefer could have valuable information on them, information that could be used to take them down from the inside.

Perhaps not all hope was lost.

Though a large part of Tissaia did feel awful for leaving her precious school behind. She felt like it was defenseless now, without her to lead them to safety. She only had Yennefer's word to rely on that no harm would come to it. But would none truly? Yennefer's letters had indicated she anted to let evil into Aretuza's halls, should those she cared about be spared. Would that change now if she had Tissaia in her grasp? And what exactly did she want from Tissaia?

It was unclear. Tissaia knew what she wanted from Yennefer. Through all their years of acquaintanceship, she had wanted a great many things from the younger sorceress. At first, when Yennefer had been a student there, reckless and lost to the ways of youth, Tissaia had wanted her to listen, learn, and grow some self respect. Then, when she'd become older and more accomplished, Tissaia had wanted her to Ascend and work accordingly within the walls of the Brotherhood. And when Yennefer had Ascended and in her own head strong way broken all those rules, Tissaia had wanted her to stay safe, but also to return to Aretuza. The woman was beautiful and Tissaia would be lying if her own flesh had not felt the effect of Yennefer's beauty. But she rarely indulged such feelings or thoughts. Feelings were a dangerous thing for mages, and not many lived to learn the lesson of this.

Tissaia sat down with her now brewed cup of tea and took a fortifying sip. Now, most of all, she wanted Yennefer to be safe. To be back to how she had used to be. What had happened to her? And why had she allowed this to happen? It seemed to Tissaia like this had been a willing trade. And yet, it being Yennefer of all people who would selfishly do this surprised the older Rectoress.

Since when was she so selfless? Or had the war changed her?

Tissaia decided it was time to put a stop to her drifting thoughts. She had to figure out what to do in this new situation she found herself in. She had no books and no magical mixtures to help figure out what was wrong with Yennefer. She only had her own knowledge; thought great, it would not include every last shred and morsel she needed. She cursed herself for her haste in packing. She should have been more thorough. She should have put up more of a fight. But the threat of losing Yennefer, had scared her right into compliance. Despite the years and hurt feelings between them, Tissaia cared for Yennefer more than any other student and perhaps nothing under this sun could change that notion.

Was it a curse then? Was Yennefer cursed?

Possessed maybe?

With Nilfgaard dabbling in dark and forbidden magic, there was no telling what Yennefer's affliction could actually be. Not until Yennefer told her what it was.

Tissaia drained her cup of tea slowly while she ruminated on possible answers and solutions. Her peace was broken by the arrival of her current captor, Yennefer. The woman stumbled in, looking horrid. She slammed the door shut behind her, leaning heavily on it, while clutching her limp right arm. Tissaia was immediately up on her feet.

“What have you gotten yourself into now,” Tissaia scolded though her heart beat faster in worry.

“Nothing you need to be concerned with,” Yennefer grunted out and tried to pretend the pain did not hurt her but failed to stifle a whimper as she got up off of the door. Tissaia saw it was stained with blood. How many places was this woman bleeding from?

“If you did not want me concerned you would not have come here,” she snapped, already grabbing the dish towels Yennefer had meticulously fixed before and wetting them so she could clean the wounds and better see them.

Yennefer let out a depricative laugh. “It was the first place that came to mind as I portaled,” she explained and Tissaia did not want to think about the implications of this now, not when Yennefer was this gravely hurt. “Get on the floor. Now.”

“Ordering me around like a dog?” Yennefer hummed, her long black locks wet- Tissaia hoped it was not with more blood- and hanging down onto her face. Her purple eyes seemed abnormally wide and there was a cut on her bottom lip.

“How is it you still have energy to give me lip?” Tissaia sputtered, not in the mood for this.

“Hm...I can give you more than lip,” Yennefer chuckled, biting her bottom lip despite causing the cut to break and bleed again.

The blood loss must be making her delirious, Tissaia reasoned as Yennefer lowered herself to the floor with little care for her hurt frame. “I don't want you bleeding on anything else. You've already made a mess of the door.”

“How considerate of you,” Yennefer mumbled as she lay on her side.

“Where have you been hurt?” Tissaia asked, using her magic to gently undue the fabric on Yennefer's body. It slipped down her like a snake, peeling back and revealing pale skin, marred with crimson gashes. Thankfully the worst of it seemed to be on her back, where it looked like she had been whipped. And on her arm where it looked to be dislocated given the slight swelling around her shoulder.

“Who did this to you?” Tissaia asked more gently as she began the arduous process of wiping away all the blood. The small towels were soaked in no time but at least the wounds were clearer and cleaner, and would be easier for Tissaia to fix.

“I think you know who already,” Yennefer said in a low timber as Tissaia's fingers danced across her naked skin. Her top half was naked and it was only because her hair tastefully covered her breasts that she was not distracting Tissaia with them and had her modesty still.

Tissaia's jaw set. She had a good guess on who it was.

Any compassion she held towards Fringilla was gone now. She would not hesitate to take her down. “If you're working for her, why would she hurt you?”

Yennefer gave a dry snort as Tissaia finished wiping the blood away. Now she pressed her small dainty fingers on Yennefer's smooth expanse of skin, and began to trace the red welts to heal them. She could feel Yennefer shudder lightly under the touch and she couldn't say if it was from pain or something else. There were many a time Tissaia wondered how it would feel to touch Yennefer's legendary beauty like this, with her fingers or her lips, in a room just the two of them.

“I did it for you.” Tissaia's hands pause here before resuming. Why would someone who valued their beauty like Yennefer did, do this? She had fought too hard for her body and in trying to earn it. Why ruin it for Tissaia's sake. “I promised you I would keep your school safe did I not? This is the cost of my defiance to them.”

The marks are healing but they remain a faint pink for now. The rest of them must heal on their own. “I told them I had changed my mind on taking down Aretuza, urging them that the school was a waste of time and the mages too weak to even do anything. After all, they saw our failure at Sodden.”

“And what did they say?” Tissaia asked as her fingers drag their way up to Yennefer's shoulder which causes the younger witch to hiss between her teeth.

“They agreed. Said I would no longer be needed there, and that they would no longer need to cleanse it's halls.”

“So then why did they hurt you if they agree with you?” Tissaia could not help but softly stroke back a wet strand of hair from Yennefer's face. Her eye swiveled up to gaze upon Tissaia.

“They tortured me to test my own resolve on following my new declarations. They found my resolve held true. So, you don't have to worry about your beloved Aretuza anymore. I know you love it more than anything else.” This, said with a degree of bitterness. Tissaia looked on at Yennefer's face in silence, not sure how to answer her this. In her silence, her hands trailed down to Yenn's shoulder and gripped hard. With a rough jerking motion, she popped the joint back into place, soothing the pain with magic quickly applied after before Yennefer could even register it.

Tissaia moved away from Yennefer, allowing the woman to slowly get to her feet and rotate her own shoulder, checking to make sure it worked properly. Tissaia gathered the bloody towels; they would need to be disposed of. And her hands would need to be washed of blood. “You are wrong, Yennefer. My school is not the only thing I think about. Or the only thing I care about.”

“Strange. I didn't know the Rectoress had a heart,” Yennefer retorted, not even thanking Tissaia for healing her, though Tissaia would have felt the thank you unneeded, as Yennefer had done Tissaia the huge favor of saving her school as she said she would. And Tissaia knew this was not a trick to garner her trust and lull her into complacency by making her think she had fought for the school. Yennefer had done it and would never allow herself to be hurt in this manner if it had not been against her will and something she had no prior knowledge of.

“I'm going to shower,” Yennefer reported and left. This gave Tissaia some time to scrub the floors and the door clean with her magic. The scent of copper was heavy in the air, and the sticky liquid was still coating her hands. She hadn't bothered to wash it off yet and it had congealed on her hands. The effort of Yennefer's trials on getting Aretuza safe. Yennefer had kept her end of the deal, but would Fringilla? Tissaia went to the sink, scrubbing her hands raw until all traces of red were gone, deep in thought. She was so deep in thought she did not notice when Yennefer was done with her shower. She turned around and nearly gasped out in shock, for the woman had been standing quietly, leaning her crossed arms across the back of the chair. Her hair was wet, and dripping to the floor Tissaia had spent so much time cleaning, and the dress she wore was black and form fitting, something she must have magicked over here. She had been staring at Tissaia quietly this whole time with a heavy and intense gaze that Tissaia could not place.

Tissaia swallowed before speaking, the gaze making her feel a tad nervous, despite her having no reason to. Yennefer had proven her words. “Aretuza is safe now.”

“It is indeed for now,” Yennefer said.

“The students inside it's halls are safe as well.”

“Indeed,” Yennefer confirmed with a small nod. Her heavy gaze did not relent. Tissaia straightened her back, chiding herself for being nervous in Yennefer's presence. The woman had not hurt her before, she would not hurt her now. Unless....unless that had been what she wanted in the first place and only know she would get it. Tissaia dispersed that thought quickly. She could not be sure of Yennefer's mental status and of her free will but for now it seemed she was capable of keeping them both in check, of having them to herself.

“What use am I to you now, if you have held up your end of the bargain, and I held up yours.” Tissaia responded with.

Yennefer cocked her head to the side. “I haven't entirely decided what I'll do with you still. One thing comes to mind most frequently but...” she trailed off and sat down in the chair she had been leaning on. “I don't suppose you'll let me stay for dinner, will you? I'm famished after my ordeals.”

Tissaia let out a small huff of irritated air at the brazen way Yennefer had demanded Tissaia be host to a dinner she had not planned on. Tissaia didn't even have the appetite for it because of everything that had happened. Still, she did not feel like arguing with Yennefer as there was still so much uncertainty around the two of them right now.

Tissaia goes around and with her magic, makes quick work of the food in the cabinets. Yennefer must have made sure there was enough food to last Tissaia for a long time. She cuts up the vegetables and mixes them into the boiling broth without much compliant. She can feel Yennefer's eyes following her and Tissaia does her best to ignore them.

The soup is magically made within a half hour, and it is the longest time Yennefer has been silent in Tissaia's presence. Usually the younger witch would use this chance to argue with Tissaia. But tonight she seemed content in just looking.

Tissaia serves them the bowls of rich hot broth. Yennefer eagerly takes to hers, smiling appreciatively as the first delightful spoonful reaches her tongue. “You could cook more often,” she comments, spooning up a carrot.

“Is that what I am to be here? A glorified cook? I assure you there are better ones on this Continent than me,” Tissaia says dryly.

“Stop trying to guess. It takes all the fun out of it,” Yennefer said and licked her spoon, making Tissaia avert her eyes given the lascivious manner she did it in.

Tissaia did not know what else to say without it becoming an argument with Yennefer, so she did not say anything more even if she burned with a curiosity to know as to what Yennefer would get up to now when she left the house.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well well well. Look who finally got their act together to finish this chapter. It's me. I'm back and I've finished up the chapters for this story, so expect more updates soon.

Yennefer doesn't come back after that incident for a whole week. Tissaia at first is relieved because it will give her more time to think on how she can use her limited knowledge to help Yennefer free. Then she gets angry, believing herself to be discarded and forgotten here. And after that, she begins to feel worried. Is Yennefer alright? Did something happen to her? Did Fringilla punish her more for daring to spare Aretuza?

Tissaia wishes she could do something about this, and the inactivity of her cabin situation is making her antsy. She taps her fingers, furtively looks around the cabin, and considers jumping out the window. May perhaps the spell Yennefer cast around the house would not hurt her if she crawled out the window, as opposed to walking out the door? Still she is too rational minded to do that. If it had been Yennefer in her position she would have charged out of here, consequences be damned.

But she is not Yennefer. There is no one quite like Yennefer.

Wild, carefree, and reckless to a worrying degree. Much like how she is behaving now. It has been a whole week. What if she is dead? Killed by Fringilla? And now Tissaia is stuck here to live out the rest of her days?

Thoughts such as these plague her constantly and she can barely sleep for fear of them. She rises up from her bed and though she is in her nightwear she cannot sleep. She paces around in the dark of the cabin not even bothering to light up the dark. It is much too much effort for her frazzled mind. Just as she is considering brewing some tea to help soothe her, there is a rattle at the door. Tissaia freezes and watches as moonlight filters in, a figure obscuring it momentarily as they slip in.

They are quiet; they must not know that Tissaia is awake. They close the door, and step in, before pausing. “Tissaia?”

“Yennefer,” Tissaia does not question; she can recognize that voice. The scent of gooseberries that pervades the air like a ghostly touch upon her cheek. “Nice of you to drop by.” She cannot help the bitterness from suffusing her voice. Yennefer always has her worrying over her; perhaps that is something that will never change no matter the situation. Yennefer has been lucky so far that her troubles have not taken her down yet. But the day may yet come when her luck runs out and Tissaia dreads it.

“Oh, bitter are we,” Yennefer chuckles. She takes two steps closer to Tissaia, the smaller woman not budging in this show of intimidation.

“You left me here,” Tissaia says and she does not mean for it to sound so needy. It is meant to be a scathing remark but her voice fails her. She is just happy Yennefer is alright. Is she bleeding? Last time she'd come back covered in marks and blood. This time...?

She reaches out a hand to touch Yennefer's cheek, cupping it. It feels warm in the dark, and a bit of moonlight through the windows reflects Yennefer's purple eyes. They're wide open, focused solely on Tissaia's face. “You don't seem hurt. Are you?” Tissaia asks. She hopes Yennefer will not be too stubborn to answer.

“You were worried,” Yennefer answers eventually and her voice is rough. Her fingers come down to circle around Tissaia's wrist. But they stay there instead of tearing Tissaia's hand away.

“Of course I was. Whatever is happening to you isn't good.” Tissaia pulls away or tries to but Yennefer's hold keeps her there.

“You care.” Yennefer states this as if her whole life she had gone around believing that Tissaia never did.

“Don't be foolish. I have always cared for you. I took you in when no one would, I trained you in magic, and I tried to get you great positions in court.”

“I thought....” Yennefer swallowed thickly. What had her in such an odd mood? She seemed different, tensed, ready to spring. But why? What had caused this? “I thought you never did. You always put me down, made fun of me. Pushed and pushed and used me. So I-”

“I was only ever rough to make sure you didn't grow up into a pushover. So that you wouldn't let others use you for their ill gains. Seems I was a bit too rough on you because you repel everyone away regardless of their intentions.”

Yennefer's brow creases. She is trying to process this. “You...”

“I tried reaching out to you so many times over the decades to prevent you from self destructing but you would never listen. And now it has gotten to this point.” Tissaia sighed out, tired. She wanted to help Yennefer she truly did, but....”Which is why I don't understand why you must keep me here. I only want to help you and I can't if you keep me locked up.” Tissaia was done with being locked up. All she was good for was worrying while Yennefer shouldered a terrible burden.

This sets Yennefer off for some reason, startlingly Tissaia back with the vehemence in the words.

“You're mine, now!” Yennefer spits out, chest heaving with emotion as she pushes Tissaia into the wall, hands on her shoulders. Tissaia's back rattles with the impact but it's not painful. “You're mine,” Yennefer growls out, a low timbre now as breathing heavily she surges into Tissaia.

Yennefer's lips find hers almost clumsily. Tissaia would have found it endearing the so called seductress and host of many orgies was so eager she could not seduce properly. But this was not a situation Tissaia would have ever found herself in. Yes, she had shamefully imaged what her former student's lips on hers would feel like, but she'd never indulged the daydream further than a chaste kiss. And it always happened with Tissaia taking the lead, kissing Yennefer to shut her up or to calm her down. Never had she imaged it would happen in a cabin in the woods, with a Yennefer who was quite not herself and keeping Tissaia as her pet.

Still, Tissaia welcomes the kiss because maybe if words cannot get to Yennefer, then maybe body language will. Maybe, there is hope to the fool's tale of love being able to heal some magical ailments. Maybe this could be the case with Yennefer. Maybe if Tissaia tries hard enough she can make cracks in the magic controlling Yennefer, allowing Yennefer to fight it and to break free of this magic. For without her books, Tissaia can do nothing to help her. She has no idea what could had befallen Yennefer.

Yennefer's hand comes up to cup Tissaia's cheek, holding her steady as Tissaia begins to reciprocate the kiss. Yennefer's lips are almost tentative on her own, as if scared to do this. As if worried she might hurt Tissaia. But Tissaia does not have the patience for this; it irritates her for some reason. She tangles her fingers in with Yennefer's long black locks and yanks her head to the side, making their lips separate with a pop. Yennefer hisses at the harsh motion but Tissaia only stares at her challengingly.

“For all your bluster and declaration of how I am yours now, I thought you would show me how much of yours I was. Instead, it seems I will yet again have to be your teacher,” Tissaia surmised and then pulled Yennefer's mouth towards her before she could even respond.

This time the kiss is messy, and Tissaia wastes no time in running her tongue against the seam of Yennefer's mouth so the woman can open her lips. Their tongues tangle together, sliding and battling as their faces tilt to fit better. Tissaia's hand remains in Yennefer's hair, holding her there as her other hand rests on the small of her back, pressing her in closer.

Yennefer is radiating heat and Tissaia can feel her own body heat up in reaction to it, to the press of her breasts and hips against Tissaia's own. To the slight whimper coming out from the back of Yennefer's throat. Reacting without thought, as Tissaia feels her own mind slip under a fog, she wedges Yennefer's thighs apart with her own, and tugs the black haired witch down onto it.

Yennefer hisses at the sensation and Tissaia nearly moans at how wet Yennefer is there. She begins to encourage her with the hand on the small of her back to work herself up and down on Tissaia's thigh. Yennefer begins to do so, eyes fluttering shut at the first roll of her hips bring the friction she desperately needs.

She pulls her mouth from Tissaia's, needing to breath as Tissaia relaxes her hold on Yennefer's hair. Soon Yennefer's pants of exertion can be heard through the cabin as Tissaia focuses on holding her up steady, pressing a few kisses here and there on her neck, the column of it vibrating with little joyful sounds.

“You _are_ mine,” Yennefer pants out in confirmation between ragged hip thrusts. Her hand splays against the wall as her head dips into Tissaia's neck, resting in the crook there. Her breath is hot and labored and it sends goosebumps racing up and down Tissaia's spine. “Mine,” she whimpers and this time Tissaia realizes it's a question.

“Yes, yours,” Tissaia answers because she knows the younger witch needs to hear this for some reason. And Yennefer shudders with a gasp against her with her full body. She comes to a stop, dripping down Tissaia's thigh. Tissaia strokes the younger witch's hair in a soothing manner as Yennefer recovers.

* * *

Yennefer leaves right after that, leaving Tissaia with more questions with no answers. She let her emotions for Yennefer bleed out. Will the woman hate her now? Is there anyway to come back from this? Tissaia closes her eyes but the questions swirl in her head and she cannot get rid of the way that Yennefer shuddered against her. Her insides twist with heat and she clamps her lips shut, trying to control herself.

She is not here to seduce Yennefer, or to have a relationship with her. She is here because she came to save Yennefer from whatever is afflicting her. But an overwhelming part of her insists that love could be the answer. That it has thrown off darker curses before and that it can do so here too.

Does Tissaia dare to hope? Dare to try?

She does not know. And this uncertainty is what makes her more hesitant towards Yennefer's affections. Now that they have broken that line between them, things change rapidly, always initiated by Yennefer. Almost as if the witch cannot get enough of this charade they are engaging in. A pleasurable one, but one nonetheless.

Yennefer has them playing at lovers. At being domestic. What is the purpose of all this?

Yennefer disappears to somewhere for most of the day but she always comes back by dinner time. They enjoy a meal that Tissaia has cooked, talking about anything that has nothing to do with what Yennefer is up to right now, and then they sleep together.

It's a cycle that repeats each and everyday. Sometimes they fuck first, sometimes they talk first. But always, it happens and it only serves to confuse Tissaia more. Because she has feelings for Yennefer, those not of a mentor but a lover, and Yennefer....she is not sure of her feelings. Is she only acting this way because of the dark magic on her? And if love can break it, then once Yennefer returns to normal, will she still want to do this with Tissaia? Will she wonder why Tissaia didn't do more effort in resisting her? Will she be disgusted?

Insecurities cannot be done away with magic and they swirl inside Tissaia eating at her while Yennefer eats her out like she is the highest delicacy this land can over. Tissaia has lost count of how many times she has come with Yennefer's tongue inside her, pushing her to reach not just one peak but several in a row after the other.

It's maddening and Tissaia finds herself opening up her heart more and more to Yennefer which she knows is a bad idea. But if she is fool enough to do so, then she deserves the heartbreak coming her way. It is hard not to, when Yennefer treats her the way she does.

She can feel the desperation in Yennefer's actions, almost as if the younger witch is afraid she will lose everything and has to memorize every inch of her lover's skin. It's like this each night, and Tissaia would pay good money to try and understand why Yennefer feels this way. But each time she tries to breech Yennefer's mind, nothing. Some magic is guarding it. Magic that Tissaia cannot break through no matter her training or skill.

She has no idea what Yennefer is thinking; all she knows are the answers that Yennefer's body can give her. So when Tissaia flips Yennefer over, and decides this time she will pleasure Yennefer, the younger woman does not fight it. She lets her body be tuned, pants and moans revealing her secrets. This isn't faked. Such pleasure could not be. Yennefer is letting her guard down, letting Tissaia in closer. Yennefer does not let others in easily. And if she does, she keeps them at arms length.

She does not do this with Tissaia. She lets her in, with open arms. Trusting her. This says a lot. And as Tissaia's left hand makes it home between Yennefer's thighs, her right hand cups her face, staring right into it. Her purple eyes are hazed with lust but Tissaia smiles down. Her Yennefer is still there; this is proof of it. She knows not all is lost and she is now more determined to fight to bring Yennefer back. And if this means fucking Yennefer so hard each night that she cannot walk, then so be it.

She dips her head down and bites down on the tendon of Yennefer's neck. The younger witch arches up and moans at the pain. Her arms wrap around Tissaia's shoulders and bring her closer. She wants more. Always more. It is like she can never be satisfied.

“Tissaia,” she whimpers and Tissaia speeds up her hand. She's only just begun.

Arching up a brow in smug disregard like she knows only riles Yennefer up, she watches as the woman notes the look and hisses in increased arousal. She mashes their lips together and then comes.

Tissaia holds her as the woman's body relaxes in her hold, easing down from the high she'd achieved. It's respite but only for a moment.

“I will reach you, Yennefer,” Tissaia promises heatedly, roughly entering Yennefer with four fingers because she is loose enough for this. As if she can manage to reach Yennefer by digging in as far as she can manage to find the true Yennefer this way.

And Yennefer shudders in her grasp.

* * *

Tissaia is making dinner for them once more when she decides enough is enough. They cannot keep going like this. It has been two months since Tissaia came here. And nothing has gotten resolved. She does not even have contact with the outside world, beside what Yennefer offers up to her reluctantly. Yennefer seems content ignoring the issues with Nilgaard. But they cannot just leave things like this. At least Tissaia cannot.

Yennefer makes her way from the bed, hastily having redone her shirt and pants, before coming up behind Tissaia and kissing her on the nape of her neck. The touch is a comfort, but also a reminder that all of this isn't real right now. That they need to get back to their normal lives. Tissaia did not breach the topic after Yennefer's explosive reaction last time, but Tissaia is confident she can handle Yennefer this time. She will not back down.

“Yennefer, we need to talk,” she turns around, face and voice hard. Yennefer's puzzled expression quickly fades, turning into one of anger. She walks away to stand by the table, griping the back of the chair. “What is there to talk about?” she asks nastily.

“You know what,” Tissaia says, not backing down. She is used to bumping heads with Yennefer, and while they have been bumping other things instead and getting along for once, this peace will not last. Not between them.

“No,” Yennefer hisses out between gritted teeth. And why does she look like this? Why is she refusing to do anything about this situation? She always has been selfish, but what is causing it this time? Enough to ignore a possible war brewing on the Continent. One that could destroy Aretuza.

Destroy everything they had worked so hard for.

“Yennefer....” Tissaia begins gently, using a tactic that she never has towards any of her students. But Yennefer isn't that anymore. Their many nights of tangled limbs and sheets changed all that. “Tell, me what's wrong.”

Yennefer looks away, setting her jaw. The soup behind Tissaia bubbles, but she does not turn around to stir it. She waits, eyes steady, for Yennefer to speak. At last the younger woman's shoulders relax and slumps down into the chair.

“I sold fifty years of my life to have just one with you,” Yennefer confesses reluctantly, avoiding Tissaia's gaze. “The deal was that I would work for Nilfgaard, give them my magic to aid in the war, and in exchange I would have the courage finally needed to be with you.”

Tissaia is speechless with shock. There is so much to process there, but namely, the fact that Yennefer liked Tissaia before she'd forfeited herself to Nilfgaard. Yennefer loved her, and she'd made a fatal mistake just so she could have something she already had.

“You foolish girl, you already had me. You just never realized it. I would have gladly been with you if you had mentioned it,” Tissaia breathes out and Yennefer turned wide eyes to her, shocked.

“But you never-”

“I never showed it, because I didn't think I could,” Tissaia answered softly, coming to stand by Yennefer. She cupped her chin, raising her head up so she could look into purple orbs. So young. So beautiful.

Yennefer sighs as she realizes the cost of the mistake she has made; it is far too late for anger. Her eyes droop, the realization tiring her out, and Tissaia hugs her fiercely to her.


	5. Chapter 5

_Two months ago_

“Tissaia, Tissaia where are you!!” Yennefer mentally called out, needing the guidance of the older woman. Where had she gone to? They were getting slaughtered out here. Yennefer is about to project again, finding radio silence the first time, when she hears something, something that sets her skin alight with fright.

“Come, Yennefer, your precious Rectoress is in need,” came Fringilla's slimy voice in Yennefer's mind through the swirl of panic and fear in it. An image of a wooded area with Tissaia lying on the ground unconscious filled Yennefer's mind and she gasped. She had to go and find Tissaia and now!

She rushed off, throwing away any concern for her own life. All she knew was that she had to save the older woman. She was too important to lose, to all of them. To the Continent. Yennefer....well, she'd never been good for much more than disrupting the way of things, in sowing more chaos.

Tissaia had so much more still to offer.

“What have you done to her!” Yennefer bellows with the force of a dozen men, even if it's only in her head.

“Poisoned her. Taken her magic,” is the hissed glee. Fringilla is immensely pleased with herself in succeeding in this. Yennefer wants to swipe that smugness away. Taking a mage's magic- there is only one way to do it. A barbaric and painful way. Yennefer hopes she will not be free.

Yennefer's feet are swift and she follows Fringilla's sneering directions on where Tissaia was. Yennefer arrives there, panting and blood boiling. She is ready for a fight. She is ready to kill. Anything, to protect the woman who gave her another life. Who gave her power. And maybe....maybe helped her feel something other than hatred for once, not that she would ever admit it.

She knows she might be running into a trap but she does not care; cannot care. Not when so much is at stake.

“How cute,” Fringilla drawls, gloating. She is standing tall over Tissaia's prone form. The sigh sends Yennefer's stomach in a twist. “The pup comes to see their master.”

“She's not my master, and I am not a harmless pup,” Yennefer barked out, letting fire dance in the palm of her hand. “What did you do to her?” she demanded, anger ready to burst out of her chest. She would make Fringilla pay for this, and for many other misdeeds she had committed while under Nilfgaard's orders.

Fringilla cocked her head, a leery grin on her face. “How about I show you what you want to do to her.”

“What-” Yennefer starts only to freeze as she feels the tendrils of Fringilla creeping into her mind. She tries to keep her out but it's too late. She's using a mind magic that they haven't learned. One that is intrusive and painful. And forbidden for good reason. Yennefer grits her teeth as she drops to the floor by Tissaia, hands going to her temples as the blood rushes under her skin, bulging her veins. She fights to keep the black mage out but she can't.

“Hmmm, I knew it,” comes the sickly satisfied voice, cooing inside Yennefer's deepest darkest desires. “I knew you had something for her even all those years ago. That unhealthy obsession of yours to stick it to her was because you had a pathetic crush on her.” Memories are brought up mercilessly to the forefront of Yennefer's mind as Fringilla parses through them indifferent to the pain it's causing, gleaming the information she needs.

Images of Tissaia and Yennefer arguing, of them discussing magic, of Tissaia deriding Yennefer's magical efforts and saying she could do better. The anger that Yennefer felt at that. The way she wanted to put Tissaia in her place. All those feelings of frustration coupled with how pretty Tissaia was....leading to many a night when Yennefer would try to work those feelings out with a hand down her panties and desperate moans muffled by the pillow.

“Stop that,” Yennefer hisses out loud as her body shakes, feeling like it will be sick with effort of trying to push Fringilla out. To keep her from seeing anymore of her shameful memories and wants. “I don't care for her.”

“Are you sure?” Fringilla cooed.

“Yes. I was a teenager. I was only horny. I didn't care for her. And I certainly don't care now,” Yennefer spat out, trying to convince them both. She is panting and she doesn't feel like she can hold out much longer.

“Oh, is that why you ran away? Is that why you had those orgies, hoping that countless bodies would make you forget about your first crush?” Fringilla sneered triumphantly and Yennefer realized it was foolish to try and say otherwise to someone who could read her every thought and feeling. “But, she's not just your first crush. Because you still care for her deeply. And sadly she won't ever do the same to you.”

That hurt, Yennefer's heart trembling under the weight of those words. “I know that and I don't care.”

“You do care. You care way too much. It's why you kept running from her only to come crawling back when she asked for you help. Because you can't stop caring. But what if I told you there was a way to stop this? To finally get what you want?”

Yennefer did not like where this was going. She dropped onto her hands now, feeling sweat dripping down her face from the exertion of having Fringilla inside her head. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. You lack the courage needed to go after her. Funny, everyone thinks you just do as you please but when it comes to matters of importance you are unable to do anything. I could give you the strength to do as you want. I could even give you the cure needed to save Tissaia and give her magic back. So, what do you say?” At this Fringilla tilts Yennefer's chin up to look at her. Yennefer forces her eyes open, the light of the low evening harsh on her face.

“Think about it,” Fringilla said. “I have felt your longing and your suffering. Time and distance have done nothing to temper it even as you try to bury it and pretend it has no hold over you. These feelings are dreadful aren't they? To be so in love with someone so unattainable. Why not make her suffer the same way? Infect her with your feelings. Have her for yourself. It would be so easy.”

Yennefer closed her eyes. Gods, did she want to be with Tissaia. Did she openly want to kiss her and hold her hand. It's all she's ever really wanted since she came to realize the depth and burden of her feelings.

She'd thought that when she graduated and had gotten her beautiful body, that Tissaia would finally notice her. Finally respect her in the very least. It had been disappointing to see Tissaia did not even react to Yennefer's new powerful image. Bitterly disappointing. Yennefer had to bite back her tears with a snippy remark and then she'd stolen the King right from under Tissaia's nose.

“I shouldn't,” she utters out, and though Fringilla is no longer in her mind, it hurts from how it had been intruded before.

“You've always been selfish Yennefer. Don't ever think that you are anything but.” Fringilla lowers herself to Yennefer's ear level, and it would be so easy to reach out a hand around Fringilla's throat and press down until she choked, but Yennefer doesn't do it. Because Fringilla is right. Yennefer has always been selfish, doing what she needed to make her life better. And really....all she wanted was a kiss. Just one....if she could just....oh who was she kidding. That wouldn't satisfy her at all.

Curse her own body for being so weak. All her life she had sought to be tough, so she would never be treated like her father had treated her. And yet....love made a fool out of her.

“The curse....will you at least give me the cure?” because Yennefer knows the frightful force of Dimenturium.

“I keep my promises, Yennefer. You just need to keep yours,” and she helps Yennefer stand to her feet. “Come, it will only take a moment, and then you shall be reunited with your precious Rectoress.”

Fringilla opens a portal and swallowing harshly, Yennefer steps through, casting one last lingering look at Tissaia's prone form. She hopes she is not making a mistake. She hopes-

…

She doesn't feel any different and yet she knows she is. There is an empty ache in her chest. A place where something like a soul, or a heart, should be. Everything is more numb. More gray to her eyes. She feels powerful, but she always felt that way.

“Remember our deal,” Fringilla says with a snake like grin, handing Yennefer the cure for Tissaia's ailment. The Rectoress is still lying on the forest floor face down. She looks so weak, like this. For once the haughty expression on her face gone. It makes a small smile crawl unto Yennefer's face. Tissaia should have no more worries. Yennefer will protect her. She can feel the new emptiness inside her yawning awake, wanting to consume Tissaia with it. Yennefer wanted to touch Tissaia and so she would, kneeling next to her and cradling her. At her touch, she begins to stir.

Yennefer spares one more look with Fringilla whose face is unreadable before she jumps into the portal behind her and disappears. “Yenn....” is the first thing Tissaia breathes out and Yennefer's chest clenches. She hides the smile on her face, however, knowing she has a role to play.

“I'm right here. I'm right here Tissaia,” Yennefer says. Where she always will be from now and forever. But something is wrong and blood is seeping out from Tissaia's mouth. “Yenn. Yennefer,” it says, loud, abrasive. Eyes are bleeding red too. Yennefer begins to panic, and she tries to stand up, but her legs are gone and she's bleeding from her nose and mouth and it's just wrong!

The thing inside Yennefer roars awake in hunger and she rips into her chest with clawed fingers, trying to get it out. Trying, anything just to be normal-

Yennefer wakes up, breathing hard. Those nightmares, of that one wretched afternoon, haunt her sleep more than they need to. And yet, she cannot dispel them. Probably because she still doubts if she made the right choice. If her freedom was worth being entrusted into Fringilla's murderous hands.

Tissaia stirs next to her and Yennefer looks down, having worried that awoke her prematurely. But she has not. The Rectoress is still sleep, loose strands of brown hair fanning on the pillow. Affection takes root in Yennefer's chest and she tries to dislodge it with a gentle throat clearing. It doesn't work; of course it doesn't. Nothing has worked to get rid of the cursed feelings that are her love for Tissaia.

Years or distance cannot rot it, and perhaps it's time she stopped trying. Even if what they have now is a farce, she cannot bring herself to give it up. Even if when this is all over, Tissaia will no longer be hers. And might even resent her for all they've done together. That, however, is a punishment that Yennefer has come to terms with.

She goes to the sink and fills up a glass with water. She's just managed to drink it down, when the soft pad of naked feet on wooden floor boards alerts her to Tissaia being awake.

“Yennefer, are you alright?” she queries and Yennefer squashes all her worries and misgivings away as she lets that slow confident smirk grace her lips.

“I will be,” she husks and drapes a hand on Tissaia's hip. Tissaia is almost swayed by this, given the slightly dreamy look in her eyes, but then she slaps Yenn's hand and steps away. Yennefer frowns. Now what?

“We cannot fall into old comforts,” Tissaia says staunchly.

“Not even when a fair maiden is so clearly shaken by a nightmare and needs the comfort of your bosom?” Yennefer bats her eyes playfully but it does not stop the slight quiver through her body. She always dreams of this, night after night, as if is there to taunt her. And ever since Yennefer and Tissaia talked about how Tissaia has always loved Yennefer and that the whole reason Yennefer did this deal was void, the dreams have only gotten worse.

They haven't talked much about it, and they can't even sleep together on it, Tissaia refusing Yennefer's touch as if it will poison her. And maybe it might. Yennefer still does not know what is inside her, but whatever it is, it is not taking kindly to being so deprived of Tissaia.

“Do not jest,” Tissaia says, but her eyes have caught the tremor and she holds Yennefer to her. The taller woman places her face on Tissaia's shoulder, unable to help from burying it into thick hair that smells so soothing. She missed her so much. She missed this touch so much.

Her hands wander down to hips, holding there tight.

“Yennefer,” Tissaia says but it is not a warning, the woman similarly burying her face into Yennefer's black tresses. Yennefer shivers in anticipation as her hands slide down lower, to the edge of Tissaia's nightgown. Short, much to her distress and distaste but much to Yennefer's enjoyment. She had made them for Tissaia with her in mind after all.

“I need you,” Yennefer admits, vulnerability lacing her words. Not looking into Tissaia's blue eyes makes this easier to say. Being in the dark, also helps. Yennefer is not one to beg, but Tissaia brings it out of her. An irony, considering how many men Yennefer has brought to their knees, commanding their subservience and yet Yennefer offers it eagerly up to Tissaia.

Slowly, agonizingly so, Tissia's hands which rested upon Yennefer's shoulders, slide down, down until they too rest at the edge of Yennefer's short nightgown. “Is this what you need?”

“Yes,” Yennefer breathes out. She does not pull away from Tissaia, taking a shuddering breath when she reaches in and pushes Yennefer's underwear to the side.

Deft fingers slide and prod and then enter into sodden folds. Yennefer clings to Tissaia like a life line, knowing otherwise her legs will fail her. She dimly registers Tissaia maneuvering them back towards the cabinets, Yennefer's back pressing in so that she can be steady. Have something to hold onto there. But she doesn't want to hold onto the cold counter-top; she clings to Tissaia's warm body, nails digging into flesh. She's craved this for a while. She can't stop craving it.

Tissaia's fingers speed up and Yennefer shifts her hips so there's more space in between her legs for this, her insides curling with heat and fire, and then it's all breaking, falling apart.

When she comes it's with a soft sob of her voice and teeth grazing at the skin of Tissaia's neck, sucking in the flesh there and leaving a mark. Tissaia groans at the sensation but she pulls free as Yennefer comes down. Yennefer wants to take her turn with her, but she knows Tissaia will not let her. They've been trying to act normal; to focus on saving Yennefer. And yet, the darkness inside her wants to taste and mold her body against Tissaia's each day.

Maybe one day, when everything returns to normal, they can be like this again; and so Yennefer swallows down her other untempered desire and offers a soft kiss to lips that are a second home to her.

Feeling much better, they retired to sitting at the dining room table, Tissaia placing down two mugs of tea for them to enjoy. Yennefer took it grateful before taking a deep sigh, preparing herself for where this conversation would go. Always to the same place. Yennefer could speak both sides of it in her sleep. The darkness in her stubbornly digs it's heels in when Tissaia tries to help. Is this part of Yennefer's personality magnified by the darkness, or is it a mechanism of the darkness, to refuse help?

But with Yennefer feeling soft and relaxed because of Tissaia, the bleakness of her new soul is lazy. It doesn't want to fight as hard this time. Yet, other factors, other reasons, crowd Yennefer's mind, finding her vulnerable.

“Please, let me help you, Yennefer. Tell me what has been done so I can free you from this.”

Yennefer's face contorts with pain. “What if you don't want me, after this? What if the magic on me was the only thing that drew you to me-”

Tissaia silences her with a kiss. She pulls away, staring sternly at Yennefer. The woman, so much bigger than life, seems so small now. Like the frightened girl she had been when she first came to Tissaia.

“I can't help with that. The binds on me won't let me even try to find a solution to my predicament.”

“Yennefer,” Tissaia sighed softly. “What have you got yourself into?” she wonders not for the first time. And Yennefer hates disappointing Tissaia like this; but it seems it's the only thing can do so far. Will it ever change?

Yennefer looked away, hands digging into the arms of the chair. “I don't need your pity.”

“I never pitied you, not once.”

“Really?” Yennefer whispers.

“I did not. Because I could sense the strong soul within you. You never backed down when it came to standing up to me.”

“I believe your praise comes too late,” Yennefer said with a soft shake of her head. Her hold tightened on her mug of tea, staring into the murky depths. Her reflection started back at her, trapped, anxiety on it's face. She shook the mug to disrupt the image.

“If we could get in touch with Triss, she could do something,” Tissaia said. “We have to start somewhere. We can't give up.”

“Then we fix me and we stick it to Fringilla,” Yennefer said, chuckling darkly as she filled in the rest of the plan for Tissaia She had no idea what the future would hold, but if Tissaia would be by her side....then she could do it. Could hold herself together long enough to get rid of this thing inside her, and destroy Fringilla for the chaos she had sown in not only their lives but the lives of everyone on this Continent.

“And after that,” Tissaia says, “we are free to be whomever we please to each other even if our feelings have be revealed decades too late,” she tacked on a wry smile, one that Yennefer shared. The irony of it all. If only one of them had been less stubborn about their emotions...but they were both cautious women who had been hurt too much. Being open with their feelings was not something easy for either of them.

Yennefer reached out and took Tissaia's hand in her own. For once, Yennefer was ready. She had thought all she had was this one year together with Tissaia, so she took it greedily. But now, she had something to look forward to. To an even brighter future with Tissaia, one not brought by magic but love.

“Together.”

“Together,” Tissaia affirmed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ending this story here because whelp, it's just where it ends in my mind. I don't have any intention to follow up to this. It was meant to just be a snapshot of a time period in their life. I hope you all enjoyed it however.


End file.
